Jump to content

Sunderland


Nobody

Recommended Posts

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/sunderland-striker-steven-fletcher-spits-3036626#.Utsvi5YFj3U.twitter

 

 

 

Premier League star Steven Fletcher filmed himself spitting on the back of a rickshaw driver taking him on a night out.

 

Then the shameless £12million Sunderland striker proudly posted a picture of the cabbie’s phlegm-covered jacket on Instagram with the message “Al spit on ya back ya c***.”

 

Scottish international Fletcher also filmed the sickening incident on his mobile as the rickshaw took him and a pal through the streets of London. During the video, which he also posted, Fletcher, 26, can be seen grinning alongside his giggling friend.

 

Footage and images of the vile incident – which drew appreciative comments from several of his followers – were later removed from the player’s account.

 

Black Cats fans will be shocked by the behaviour of their £40,000-a-week striker. There are around 150 bicycle rickshaw – or pedicab – drivers working in London. They are mainly foreign students striving to pay for their studies.

 

In stark contrast to ­Fletcher’s wealthy lifestyle, many struggle to make enough to cover the expense of running the cab, despite working dangerous night shifts in busy traffic.

 

The Scot is not the first Sunderland player to have been in trouble off the field in recent seasons.

 

Last year midfielder Stephane Sessegnon, 29, now with West Brom, was banned after admitting drink driving. Fletcher shares a £650,000 country home in Co Durham with beauty queen partner Rachel Monaghan, 21, and daughter Darcy-Mae.

 

Fashion-mad Fletcher sparked fury among fans in 2012. He tried to flog his new ­clothing range to 100,000 Twitter followers just hours after a Scotland defeat made it almost impossible for them to qualify for this summer’s World Cup finals.

 

 

what the fuck, that's awful

Link to post
Share on other sites

Guest BenArfa10

Yeah, nobs. Here's rhyme for them

 

Ew , Marramore, yas wanna gan shopping?

 

What what what what what? What what what what what? What what what what what? What what what what what? Toppa toppa toppa toppa do dah. Toppa toppa toppa toppa do dah. Toppa toppa toppa toppa do dah, Toppa toppa toppa toppa do dah.

 

Everyone’s a secret Mag, aanly got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m huntin’ lookin’ for steak bake, this fucking awesome.

 

Nah, bus up to the town liek haway I got some blew pop, so pumped for the match I kicked a dog and rushed six cops. Gannin on a Greggs binge but it’s so damn frosty people be liek ‘damn, that’s a cold ass pasty. Rollin’ in I’m a creep, wor lads have knocked my self-esteem, dressed in all pink, ‘cept my underwear those aren’t clean. Draped in Lynx instinct, girls standing next to me, probably should’ve washed before cos I smell like a fanny (piiisss), cause shit I’ve got no damn sense.

 

Dropping em, mopping em, I’m so fucking incompetent, passing by Mags and I’m laughing and mocking em’, not standing in the same spot  one of em’s been walking in. Scummy and grotty, fuck it man I am stumpy and spotty, savin’ my giro and I’m proppa happy there’s a bargain bin. I’m ganna’ rob your Granda’s house I’m ganna’ rob your Granda’s house, No for real - tell your marra  - hide his boat I’m ganna’ burn it down (haha). Size 64 tracksuit that really smells of kippers, brown stained away kit that I found in me kitchen. They had a broken keyboard I bought a broken keyboard then I bought a heated blanket cause’ that’s the shit I like to horde. Haway haway my ace man my Benno, Paulo ain’t got nothing on Gus cringe’ game, hell no. Mags take from your academy, make em cool and we don’t, dickheads be liek ‘’Aw, he never played for Man U though’’.   

 

I’m ganna’ buy some fags, aanly got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m hunting looking for buttend, this fucking awesome. Everyone’s a secret Mag, aanly got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m hunting looking for Balti, this fucking awesome.

 

What you knowin’ about continental competition? What you knowin’ about a 15 point seyson? We’re digging, we’re digging searching right through the Dutch league, a no mark striker, no pace with a goatee. Thank your granny for saying me flies are un-buttoned cause that divvent gan well with my bottled spray sun-tan. I’m at the metro, you can find me in the Deben-hams, I’m not I’m not stuck I’m tryna hide an erec-tion. I’ll shag ya granny, your aunty even your mam who’s a tranny, expand your front door now ‘cause I’ll block that motherfucker, the built-in oven, warm me socks in that motherfucker. Munching on my meat frey like it was a last supper. I hit the centa and get laughed out that motherfucker, they be like ‘oh that’s size small must be proppa tight, I’m like ‘that’s £50 for a Mackem shirt’. He says Fletch is limited edition but let’s do some simple addition, £12m for a crock you’re just an ignorant dipshit, I call that getting swindled and tricked (dick) I call that plain and simple Mackematics (shit). Your fans are smelly dopes and a ground full of empty seats is a hella don’t. Derby game make sure you bring your telescope, tryna be heard from level 7 then you hella won’t, man you hella won’t.

 

(Aldi, swiping bags, yeah!)

 

Everyone’s a secret Mag, only got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m hunting looking for steak bake, this fucking awesome.

 

I wear these sweat drenched clothes, my hair looks terrible, I’m in my training coat from the club shop down the road.

You know I don’t like boats (aye right!), they’re not my style you know (nah come on man), I’ve got to buy some coke (gerrin) from that Aldi down the road (scratta’).

 

Everyone’s a secret Mag, only got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m hunting looking for steak bake, this fucking awesome.

 

Is that your mam’s tranny coat?

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Guest Haris Vuckic

Yeah, nobs. Here's rhyme for them

 

Ew , Marramore, yas wanna gan shopping?

 

What what what what what? What what what what what? What what what what what? What what what what what? Toppa toppa toppa toppa do dah. Toppa toppa toppa toppa do dah. Toppa toppa toppa toppa do dah, Toppa toppa toppa toppa do dah.

 

Everyone’s a secret Mag, aanly got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m huntin’ lookin’ for steak bake, this f***ing awesome.

 

Nah, bus up to the town liek haway I got some blew pop, so pumped for the match I kicked a dog and rushed six cops. Gannin on a Greggs binge but it’s so damn frosty people be liek ‘damn, that’s a cold ass pasty. Rollin’ in I’m a creep, wor lads have knocked my self-esteem, dressed in all pink, ‘cept my underwear those aren’t clean. Draped in Lynx instinct, girls standing next to me, probably should’ve washed before cos I smell like a fanny (piiisss), cause s*** I’ve got no damn sense.

 

Dropping em, mopping em, I’m so f***ing incompetent, passing by Mags and I’m laughing and mocking em’, not standing in the same spot  one of em’s been walking in. Scummy and grotty, f*** it man I am stumpy and spotty, savin’ my giro and I’m proppa happy there’s a bargain bin. I’m ganna’ rob your Granda’s house I’m ganna’ rob your Granda’s house, No for real - tell your marra  - hide his boat I’m ganna’ burn it down (haha). Size 64 tracksuit that really smells of kippers, brown stained away kit that I found in me kitchen. They had a broken keyboard I bought a broken keyboard then I bought a heated blanket cause’ that’s the s*** I like to horde. Haway haway my ace man my Benno, Paulo ain’t got nothing on Gus cringe’ game, hell no. Mags take from your academy, make em cool and we don’t, dickheads be liek ‘’Aw, he never played for Man U though’’.   

 

I’m ganna’ buy some fags, aanly got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m hunting looking for buttend, this f***ing awesome. Everyone’s a secret Mag, aanly got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m hunting looking for Balti, this f***ing awesome.

 

What you knowin’ about continental competition? What you knowin’ about a 15 point seyson? We’re digging, we’re digging searching right through the Dutch league, a no mark striker, no pace with a goatee. Thank your granny for saying me flies are un-buttoned cause that divvent gan well with my bottled spray sun-tan. I’m at the metro, you can find me in the Deben-hams, I’m not I’m not stuck I’m tryna hide an erec-tion. I’ll shag ya granny, your aunty even your mam who’s a tranny, expand your front door now ‘cause I’ll block that motherfucker, the built-in oven, warm me socks in that motherfucker. Munching on my meat frey like it was a last supper. I hit the centa and get laughed out that motherfucker, they be like ‘oh that’s size small must be proppa tight, I’m like ‘that’s £50 for a Mackem shirt’. He says Fletch is limited edition but let’s do some simple addition, £12m for a crock you’re just an ignorant dipshit, I call that getting swindled and tricked (dick) I call that plain and simple Mackematics (s***). Your fans are smelly dopes and a ground full of empty seats is a hella don’t. Derby game make sure you bring your telescope, tryna be heard from level 7 then you hella won’t, man you hella won’t.

 

(Aldi, swiping bags, yeah!)

 

Everyone’s a secret Mag, only got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m hunting looking for steak bake, this f***ing awesome.

 

I wear these sweat drenched clothes, my hair looks terrible, I’m in my training coat from the club shop down the road.

You know I don’t like boats (aye right!), they’re not my style you know (nah come on man), I’ve got to buy some coke (gerrin) from that Aldi down the road (scratta’).

 

Everyone’s a secret Mag, only got 20p in my pocket, I I I’m hunting looking for steak bake, this f***ing awesome.

 

Is that your mam’s tranny coat?

 

 

Very John Cooper Clark. I like.

 

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
×
×
  • Create New...